by Mark Lukens
While Woods was in the bathroom, Tara sat on the bed and called her Aunt Katie and told her to stay in her hotel room. Katie promised that she would stay. Tara tried once again to convince her aunt to take a taxi to the airport and go back to Boston for a little while, but her aunt, as stubborn as ever, refused to leave while this was going on.
She was about to call Lorie next, but Woods came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but the pair of jogging pants.
Tara’s breath caught in her throat for a moment, and she was sure that Woods, even in his weakened state, had noticed her look.
She looked away quickly, embarrassed that she had stared so long at his body. He was as hard and lean as she had imagined. The jogging pants hung easily on his narrow hips. His dark hair was still spikey from the shower and it looked like he had combed it back as best he could with his fingers.
“Come and sit here on the bed,” she said as she jumped to her feet, suddenly filled with nervous energy. She clicked on the lamp next to the bed. She kept the drapes shut and she had every lock on the motel door secured.
Woods sat down on the edge of the bed. He had taken a fistful of painkillers and washed them down with a bottle of beer before the shower. He opened a second bottle of beer and he looked like he was feeling a little better, the cocktail of the Aleve and alcohol easing his pain a little.
Tara got the bottle of alcohol and some cotton balls from the dresser that the TV sat on. She stood in front of him, her hands shaking a little as she drenched the cotton balls with the alcohol.
“This is probably going to sting a little,” she said.
“Hold on, then,” Woods said and downed the rest of his beer in a few swallows.
Tara smiled. “Are you ready now?”
“I’m anesthetized,” he said, and his words were a little slurred.
She daubed at the wound on the side of his head and he flinched a little. She had to admit that the wound did not look nearly as bad since he’d had a shower. A lot of the wound was hidden in his dark hair. His eyes were still a little red, but at least he could see now.
“I never thanked you for saving my life,” Tara said.
Woods looked up at her, staring into her eyes.
“Thanks,” she said and her voice sounded a little husky to her own ears. She hadn’t meant it to come out like that. She cleared her throat quickly.
But for a moment, she stared into his dark eyes and imagined that he wanted her as much as she wanted him right now. For a moment she almost sank down beside him into bed and grabbed on to his body, holding him. And for a moment she almost smothered him with a kiss.
But she turned away and walked back to the dresser at the foot of the bed and threw the cotton balls away in a little waste basket. She screwed the cap back on the bottle of alcohol.
Woods watched her with sleepy eyes.
“I got some bandages,” she said over her shoulder. “But it looks like most of the wound is in your hair.”
She heard heavy breathing. She turned around and saw that Woods had stretched out on the bed and he was breathing deeply, his eyes closed. She stared at his body for a long moment, wondering what it would be like to lie down next to him and hold on to him. She fantasized for a split second about some kind of future relationship between them.
But then the thought of her night terrors crashed her back to reality and she dismissed the idea quickly as sudden tears stung her eyes. She had to be strong. This attraction to Woods was just because of the thrill of danger and the near-death experience that they had been through tonight. That was all. After this was all over, Woods would go back to whatever life he had before in whatever town he lived in.
And Tara would go back to her own life.
She grabbed her cell phone and unlocked the locks on the door carefully. She glanced at Woods, but the sound hadn’t disturbed him at all. She made sure she had her room keycard, and then she went outside to call Lorie.
2.
Tara didn’t like being outside at night by herself. She could imagine Jeremy out there in the darkness somewhere watching her. But she didn’t want to talk on the phone in the motel room while Woods was sleeping – he needed his rest.
She walked from their motel room door down to Woods’ car and leaned against it as she dialed Lorie’s cell phone number.
The night was kind of cool, but not cold. It was dark, but this area of the parking lot was well-lit. She kept glancing around as she held the phone up to her ear, but she didn’t see anyone else moving around out here. The parking lot was only about half-full, and most of the windows of the motel rooms were dark.
Lorie answered the phone before her voice-mail kicked in.
Tara told Lorie about Woods, and what had happened with Steve, who she now knew was really her half-brother Jeremy. But Tara didn’t go into detail about who Steve really was, the important thing now was that she knew Steve was the killer. Tara asked Lorie to tell her uncle the truth about Woods and to get her uncle to back off of Woods and concentrate on finding Steve. She gave Lorie the address of the abandoned house that they had been at earlier. Maybe there was some kind of evidence there that could help her uncle.
Lorie said she would call her uncle right away.
They hung up with each other and Tara dialed her aunt’s cell phone, but it went to her voicemail. Why wasn’t Aunt Katie answering her phone? Maybe she was in the shower. Or maybe she went to grab a bite to eat or a drink. She was sure her aunt was okay, but she couldn’t get the feeling of dread out of her mind now after all that had happened tonight. She left a message for her aunt to call her back as soon as she got back in.
She stood beside Woods’ car for a moment longer, staring out at the sea of pavement in the parking lot that stretched away into the darkness. She wondered where Jeremy had gone to. She wondered what he was going to do next. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to reach out with her mind, but all she got was a black wall.
She was too tired now, and she felt like she needed rest as much as Woods did.
3.
Lorie got off the phone with Tara and she looked at Mike.
Mike had just entered the room; he couldn’t help overhearing the alarm in her voice.
“What is it?” Mike asked. “Is your friend okay?”
“Yeah, for now. She was almost killed tonight, her and Woods.” Lorie let out a deep breath. “And she knows who the killer is now. It’s her next door neighbor, Steve.”
“Her neighbor?”
“Yeah. He must’ve been watching her for a while and waited until a unit was available in her complex. He was right beside her the whole time. Just watching her. Waiting.” She shook her head. “Oh God, I talked to that guy.”
Mike came over and wrapped and arm around Lorie’s shoulders and pulled her close to him. “You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I tried to fix Tara up with that guy,” Lorie said with horror.
“You didn’t know,” Mike told her.
Lorie pulled away from Mike suddenly. He stepped back.
Mike was beginning to get used to Lorie’s overdramatic flare for everything – it was one of the things he loved about her, her passion, her emotions worn on her sleeve for all to see, her grandiose expressions.
“I need to call my uncle. I’ve got to straighten out a mess I started.”
4.
As Lorie called her uncle, Tara went back into the motel room and entered as quietly as she could. She locked all of the locks on the door and set her keycard by the TV. She turned out the lamp next to Woods and covered him up with a blanket from the bottom of the bed.
She set the alarm on her phone for five o’clock in the morning. As soon as Woods got some rest, she wanted to go and check on her aunt. She left the light on in the bathroom and she lay down on the bed beside Woods. She could go lay in the other bed, but she wanted to lay down beside him for a little bit. He was asleep; he would never know that she had snuggled up beside him for a while.
She felt safe for the first time in a long time. Woods was a strong man and he wouldn’t hesitate to protect her. And he wanted the same thing she wanted, to rid society of this monster who stalked the night.
Tara had never been sure if she could kill anyone. She had always wanted to kill the man who had murdered her parents, but if that time came, she wasn’t sure she could do it. And she had proven that to herself earlier tonight when she had aimed the gun down at Woods – she hadn’t been able to pull the trigger. She shuddered at the thought … if she had pulled that trigger …
She didn’t want to think about what could have happened.
But after tonight, after looking into Jeremy’s eyes, after feeling the evil and darkness coming from him, she wanted to believe that she could kill him if she had to.
She just wanted to close her eyes for a few minutes and then she would move over to the other bed.
Tara closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
5.
Aunt Katie left her cell phone in her hotel room when she went down to the restaurant/bar that was in the lobby. She had only planned to be down there for half an hour at the most.
She ordered a fried fish and fries basket. She drank a cold bottle of Budweiser before her dinner and then one more when the food arrived. The beer tasted good with the greasy fried food.
After she was done with her meal, she went to the bar and sat on one of the stools. The beers had wetted her appetite for another drink – something a little stronger. She had always had a weakness for alcohol, she knew that. She had tried to quit over the years, but she had compromised and decided to cut way back. There were many nights when she didn’t drink anything. But then there were some nights when she liked to reward herself with a few drinks.
And tonight she was worried about Tara, more worried than she’d been in a long time. But the last phone call she’d gotten from Tara had set her mind at ease.
Tara had been face-to-face with Jeremy and she had gotten away from him. And now she was getting the police involved. That was the best thing; let the police handle this while Tara was safe in a motel room with Woods.
Katie wished that they would’ve been able to come to this motel and stay with her, but Tara said Woods needed some rest and medical attention.
The bartender, a young man who introduced himself as Ray, glided up to her and asked what the lady would be drinking this evening.
“Vodka and tonic,” she told him with a seductive smile.
He smiled back, but it was false, she could tell. He was nearly half her age.
The bar was almost empty. A couple had shared some kind of appetizer over some martini-looking drinks. And then they were off, probably up to their room for some headboard-banging sex, Katie thought.
She ordered another drink.
As she finished her second drink a man sat down next to her at the bar. He smiled at her. He ordered a drink for himself and a third one for Katie.
They talked for a few moments as Katie downed her third drink and the man nursed his.
“I need to go out for a quick smoke,” Katie said.
“I’ll go with you,” the man said.
The man was a lot younger than she was. He was a tall, good-looking man with a strong and lean body. He had blond hair and the darkest eyes.
When they stepped outside, Katie lit her cigarette and introduced herself. “My name’s Kate. Everyone calls me Katie.”
“My name’s Steve,” the man said and gently shook the hand she offered.
Katie dropped her cigarette and stared into the man’s dark eyes. There had been something nagging at her about the man as soon as he sat down, something remotely familiar, but the alcohol had clouded her senses. But now she recognized those dark eyes – she’d seen them a long time ago.
Steve wasn’t smiling anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
1.
After Lorie called Detective Perry, he got up out of his chair. He had been settled down for the night in his recliner, about to watch a college football game. He’d had a few beers already, but not too many.
And it didn’t matter – after Lorie’s phone call he’d sobered up completely.
The first thing he did was call the station to get a search warrant for Steve’s apartment. He knew that the warrant would take at least until the morning, so the next phone call he made was to Jackson.
Jackson was home with his family, but this was business and he was ready to go to the abandoned house with Perry on the condition that he drove. He wasn’t in the mood for a mad dash down Highway 60 in Perry’s car.
Perry got dressed and shrugged into his shoulder holster. He slipped his .45 into it and made sure he had a few extra clips with him. He grabbed his heavy Maglite flashlight and tested it. He attached his cell phone to his belt and slipped his jacket on. Then he made sure his cat had plenty of food and water. His neighbor knew that if he didn’t come back home for more than a day, then she could come into his house with the spare key he’d given her to make sure his cat was okay.
The cat, an ornery Siamese, rubbed against his leg almost like she could tell he was going somewhere dangerous and might not return – she wasn’t usually this affectionate.
“I’ll be okay, Sam,” he told her. He’d named her Samantha, but he always called her Sam. She didn’t like table food – she only ate Meow Mix cat food. She fought off any dogs that came around and she didn’t like to be petted for very long, maybe a few minutes, and then she’d nip at him to let him know that she’d had enough.
She was ornery – just like Perry.
Jackson arrived fifteen minutes later and they drove to the address Lorie had given to him.
2.
Perry and Jackson pulled up to the gate of the abandoned house; the gates were wide open, like a car or truck had plowed right through them. The house was set back on two acres of brush and trees. There were some other residences within a mile or so, but for the most part this house was isolated. The nearest neighbors were run-down homes or trailers, the large yards littered with cars and car parts, kids’ toys, and neglected pets. Perry would’ve thought someone might have reported the sound of a vehicle crashing through a fence and the gunshots earlier.
But maybe not out here.
Jackson pulled his car in through the gates and they drove through the weeds and grass up to the house, driving beside the ruts left behind by the vehicle that had sped out of here earlier.
They parked in front of the house and the headlights shined right on the front porch. The front door was ajar. They sat in the car for a moment, letting the engine run, looking for any movement from inside the house.
On the way to the house Perry told Jackson that he hadn’t called this one in – they would be here on their own with no search warrant and no backup. He gave Jackson a brief report of what his niece had told him about Tara’s next door neighbor being the killer and what he’d tried to do to Tara. If everything Tara said was true, then he would call it in; but he wasn’t going to waste manpower, or worse, be embarrassed, if Tara was bullshitting about all of this.
Jackson was cool with all of that.
Perry knew he would be.
They got out of the car at the same time, both with flashlights in their hands. Jackson had turned the car off, but he left the headlights on.
They walked up to the front door and Jackson pulled his gun out and aimed it at the front door along with his flashlight. Perry kept his gun holstered as he banged on the front door with the butt of his flashlight and the door creaked open a little more from his pounding.
“Police!” he said in a loud voice and waited for a response or any kind of sound from inside the house.
Nothing.
Perry had to be careful here. Lorie told him that the place was abandoned, but if Tara wasn’t telling the truth, then Perry and Jackson could get in a lot of trouble entering someone’s home without a warrant. Of course, if something like that were to happen, then there were alwa
ys ways around it. But Perry liked things simple and he wanted to be careful.
As he beat on the front door again, it opened up all the way.
Perry took a few steps inside the house, shining his flashlight along the stacks of junk piled up against the far wall – the house looked vacant.
“Hello?” Perry called out. Jackson was right behind him, covering him. “We’ve received a report of gunshots and we want to know if anyone’s hurt. The front door was wide open and we’re coming in.”
There were still no sounds in the dark house. The light from the headlights of their car provided enough light in the living room, but Perry knew that the farther they ventured into the house, the darker it would become.
Perry was feeling reasonably sure that no one was here, and he began to believe Lorie’s story more and more by the minute. He marched through the living room into a dining room that had more garbage and trash littered across the floor. He went down a wide hallway, Jackson two steps behind him.
They came to the first room on the left and Perry entered with Jackson right behind him. Even though the living room, dining room, and kitchen were cluttered with unwanted junk and garbage, this room was clean, nearly empty except for a knocked-over camera and tripod and an overturned wooden chair.
Perry glanced at Jackson. This room gave him the creeps, someone had set up a camera to take a picture of someone in a wooden chair at the other end of the room – Perry could only think of one scenario for that kind of photograph.
He inspected the overturned chair more closely, but he didn’t touch anything. He pulled out a pair of latex gloves and pulled them onto his hands, snapping them in place.
